


Jump

by silraen



Category: The Blacklist (TV), lizzington - Fandom
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Intimacy, Occurs after Starfire, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silraen/pseuds/silraen
Summary: Liz reflects on her feelings for Red and what they've been sharing over the last few weeks.This fic is dedicated to @yorkiemusketeer as part of tumblr's @theblacklistsecretsanta gift-giving extravaganza! Merry Christmas to you, yorkiemusketeer, and to all The Blacklist fans!





	

_Where I’m going I don’t need my brakes_  
_Can’t wait to see your face_  
_When your front windows break_  
_And I come crashing through…_

~~

The day was done–their mission complete. After showering, eating dinner, and finalizing their plans for tomorrow, they had lapsed into an exhausted silence, each lost in their own thoughts and nursing a drink to dull their individual pains. 

Dusk had slipped into night–when had that happened? Liz wondered idly, huddling into her hoodie and taking another sip of whatever it was that Red had poured her. Time was a funny thing. Sometimes it sped up to a rate that made her breathless, and at other times it seemed to slow down to where she was acutely aware of every little thing happening around her. 

Like now. Even as she swallowed, even as the smooth alcohol burned its way down the back of her throat, she could feel him watching her. 

It had been a couple of weeks since their night on the ship…when they had kissed while the stars had burned witness overhead. For many nights since then, she had allowed herself to indulge in her need to be close to him in that way. But really, they both had surrendered to the need, not just her. He wanted that shared intimacy just as much as she did. 

They never went beyond kissing. She was sure the thought of more flitted through his mind…him being the man he was. And she had certainly thought of it as well…. But neither had pushed for it. Both were more than content to explore and learn about one another–slowly–in this new way. 

It was usually around this time, when they were both coming down from the day, when her own worries and anxieties were gnawing at her consciousness and threatening to overwhelm her that she allowed him to take her into his arms and forget–at least for a little while–that she was Elizabeth Keen, a wanted fugitive…a murderer…on the run with one of the most dangerous men in the world. A man who she was beginning to understand just how much she cared for. 

The thought of caring for him wasn’t nearly so frightening to her as it used to be. 

Her glass was empty. She stared down at it, rolling it back and forth in her hand. The reflected light from the lamp shone and glittered on it. She heard Red’s chair creak as he got up. Four padded steps later and he was in front of her, bare feet poking out of his lounge pants. She looked up at him. His eyes were intent, searching hers for a brief moment before he held out his hand. She wordlessly handed over her glass and his fingers slid across hers as he took it from her. It seemed accidental, but she knew the touch was deliberate. It was one of his ways of telling her he would welcome her company…if she would welcome his. Two clinks sounded on wood as the empty glasses were set down on the end table beside the couch. 

She glanced up at him again, meeting his eyes as she shifted to make room for him to sit. He eased down next to her, one arm thrown across the back of the couch…close, but, at the same time, keeping a respectful distance. Always respectful, was Red. Never presumptuous…always allowing her to show him whether or not she wanted him close. 

She did. 

Liz brought her knees up to rest against his leg, bridging the small space between them. Her head fell gently to his shoulder. She felt his fingertips skim her blonde hair, stroking a lock behind her ear. She closed her eyes, relishing the quiet tenderness behind the touch. 

A comfortable silence grew between them. They didn’t need to speak. Not about this. There was an understanding to never speak about these intimate moments during the light of day…and not even when they were alone together at night. It was as if they had both silently agreed that speaking out loud of what passed between them would tear apart what they were painstakingly building. Sometimes it almost felt like these brief moments in the night never happened. But then his hand would press against the small of her back as he helped her into the car, or she would sit close enough to him to feel his arm or leg brush against hers, or they would share a meaningful glance that lingered a little too long before one or the other looked away first…. Those small gestures were confirmation that they really had crossed over into something new…something more.

Her hand reached out to find his. His thumb traced the inside of her wrist and she lifted her head to look at him. He was watching her, waiting for her. Liz leaned in. His lips whispered across her forehead, moving down until they caught hers–gently, always gently. 

A blush crept up her cheeks as they explored each other. She could taste the alcohol on his mouth, smell the soap he’d used in the shower, feel the warmth of him through his thin shirt. Red shifted, his arm dropping off the back of the sofa to curl around her body, tucking her against him. Time slowed even more for her. She was aware of everything–the way his lips moved over hers, the way his stubble felt against her chin, how their fingers clasped together, how her hoodie was riding up her waist, the way his other hand moved from her hip to caress the slight line of bare skin. With every physical sensation, the exhaustion she had been feeling and the anxieties she had been harboring all evening faded further and further from her mind.

The kiss deepened. Then, after several long moments…changed. 

Liz couldn’t say which of them began it. Maybe neither of them were wholly responsible. Maybe they both were. But in an instant, a fervent passion unexpectedly flared and then blossomed between them. It was almost tangible. His mouth left hers to trail kisses along her jawline to just below her ear. She found her hands moving of their own accord to grasp his arms, her breath catching as his teeth grazed her earlobe, her neck, her throat. His breathing–usually so controlled–sounded ragged. Her heart began to pound faster. _Wait,_ she thought wildly through the aching haze. _Wait._ She braced one of her hands carefully against his chest as she pulled back to meet his eyes. 

There was something new in his gaze. No. Not new. It was something that had always been there–evanescent, but there. She had caught glimpses of it before. But right now…. A tremor ran through her as she looked into his eyes. Everything lay bare before her, revealed without any shadow of restraint. Did Red know what she perceived? Did he trust her that much?

One of his brows arched slightly in query as he traced her cheek with the back of his thumb, fingers sliding through her hair, brushing down her throat, and stopping to rest tenderly against the curve of her neck and shoulder. 

_Should I stop?_ his eyes asked her.

She knew he would stop if she asked him to. He was always so careful, never overstepping himself. During the previous nights, she’d had fleeting thoughts that perhaps they shouldn’t be doing this. She had always pushed them away. But tonight they had crossed a line. What had he said to her before? 

_You know the problem with drawing lines in the sand? With a breath of air, they disappear._

The cautious and insecure part of her wanted to shy away, to have him redraw the line and cross safely back over to the other side…away from the depth of ardent emotion they were experiencing. But to do so would be cowardice on her part. Why deny him the truth? She looked down at her fingers tightening in his shirt, right over his heart. She could feel it beating with each rise and fall of his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut. Why deny it herself?

 _Jump,_ her heart cried. _Jump over._

Raw emotion, pure and true, welled within her, answering the feelings of desire…and the something far deeper, the something far _more_ …that shimmered, brimming, between them. 

His fingertips caressed her just under her chin, guiding her now-unguarded gaze back up to meet his. His own eyes widened slightly. What he saw there, with her own defenses down…. It was completely unbridled. It was exquisite. He exhaled sharply. “Lizzy,” he rasped, cupping the side of her face in his palm. Even now, even with knowing what it was he saw burning in her eyes, he restrained himself, waiting for her. His fingers traced her skin. She teetered on the edge. _Come here then,_ his eyes coaxed her. _Come here._

_Jump._

Without a shadow of doubt in her heart, she closed the distance between them.

_fin_

~~

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything The Blacklist  
> This fic takes place a couple weeks after the event in **Starfire**  
>  Lyrics in the beginning from Rihanna’s “Fire Bomb”…my romantic heart thought they were appropriate


End file.
